Cutting The Strings
by UndercoverSkeleton
Summary: Sequel to Gaining A New Mask. Violet has to struggle to come to terms with her new life inside Arkham Asylum. But how long can the asylum hold her when she meets some new faces, both friend and foe? Her life is about to take a turn for the worse in a way she never imagined possible.


**Author's Note:**

** WELL. After 7 months of keeping my lovely readers waiting, I present to you, the long awaited sequel to Gaining A New Mask. I am SO sorry for the long wait, but life proved to be pretty hectic for me over the summer and the past couple of months- I've been going through a lot of transitions in my life that forced this sequel to the backburner. However, I'm finally back!**

** Now, after going back and reading the first story, I think you'll find that this one will be very different. I have no set storyline to go along with, so that's going to be a big difference. I also now have some more experience with actual writing and I can honestly say I think I will provide a better reading experience than I could when I started GANM two years ago. Along with the maturation my writing has experienced, I myself have matured and as such, am much more open to exploring more "mature" topics in this fic. It will have an M rating for a reason. **

** The biggest difference from my first story, I think, will be the consistency in this one. I jumped around a lot in the first one because I didn't have a plot before I started writing. I literally was just making things up as I went along, which lent to the lengthy periods between my updates. I have this one all plotted out so waiting for updates should be kept to a minimum. This story will also probably end up being twice as long as my first one.**

** I was honestly very surprised by how many people liked my first story, so I'm hoping everyone will enjoy this one just as much, if not more! My readers/reviewers are what keep me writing; so let me know what you guys think by leaving a review!**

** Without further ado, I present to you: Cutting the Strings!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Batman or anything affiliated with it. I'm only posting this disclaimer in the first chapter, so it's just going to be understood to apply to the rest of the story. **

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**A Strange Plot Twist**

_Gotham. A city unlike any other. Have you ever heard the phrase, "It must've been something in the water?" Gotham was a little like that. There wasn't anything in the water, at least that I knew of, but boy there was something in the people. Gotham was like a flame in the darkness of the world, drawing all sort of messed up moths towards it. Those who came to the city with their sanity wouldn't keep it for long. In this city, you didn't have to fight to stay alive, at least not all the time. No. Here, you had to fight for your sanity. You fight to keep your head above the water, not wanting to drown in the inevitable loss of yourself. You do your best to stay afloat._

_ I have just drowned._

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxooxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxooxoxxoxoxoxo

Somewhere in my mind I registered the sound of a wooden door being thrown open and banging off a wall. It was hard to think clearly at the present moment. My skull felt like it had cotton balls-too many cotton balls- stuffed in it, making it abnormally hard to think. _What did you do?_

"_Where is she?!"_ From the doorway, the unmistakable roar of the security chief's voice rumbled towards me in a thick wave, hitting me from behind.I could feel the tension wafting through the open door behind him; he seemed to take it with him wherever he went. Neither of the guards standing in the room with me said anything. They didn't need to. I heard the head of security fully enter the office now. Footsteps were echoing in the hallway. He wasn't alone.

"When I ask you a question, I expect an answer!" That gruff voice echoed out again. This was a man who didn't just _like_ being in control; he _needed_ to be in control. "_Well?"_

I glanced out of the corner of my eye, not wanting to let on that I was interested in any way, shape, or form in what was going on around me. I saw the two security guards share a glance at each other before one of them mustered up the courage to answer their superior.

"She's where we found her," he paused, maybe to swallow his fear, "sir. She hasn't moved or said anything since we got here."

"Have you approached her?" Bolton asked, this time his voice was closer. For a big man he could move pretty quietly when he wanted to. Around him, his men were moving into the room. They immediately set to work, surrounding the desk where poor Dr. Milton was still sitting. _Poor my ass._

"No sir, we didn't want to contaminate the crime scene in any way." I had no special training whatsoever in being a guard of any sort, but even _I_ knew that was a dumbass answer as soon as it left his mouth. There was a pause and I wondered if Bolton was going to say anything. I was actually about to turn my head to figure out what was going on when I felt a massive hand clamp onto my shoulder and throw me onto the floor, making me land on my stomach.

"So you're telling me," Bolton's voice was above me now, which told me he was the one who threw me down in the first place, "that in the time it took my men and I to get up to this office, you didn't once check to see if the suspect had any weapons on her person?" He worded it like a question, but to me it sounded like a parent reprimanding a child.

While the silence stretched on, Bolton moved so he was pushing down between my shoulder blades and had both knees on either side of my body. It was uncomfortable to say the least. His weight was causing my hipbones to grind into the thinly carpeted floor. If I had to take a guess, I'd say there was nothing but cement underneath it. Bolton roughly jerked my arms behind my back.

"It's stupidity like that that caused the fiasco here two years ago. You're both suspended until further notice." A clinking of metal told me he was getting handcuffs out now. I felt the tight metal bindings clamp onto my wrists as he finished his rant, "Now get the hell out of my sight." Evidently the men didn't need to be told twice because after that, they scrammed.

I felt Bolton shift his weight so he was leaning on one knee now while keeping the other in a kneeling position. His hands began patting me down harshly, looking for any possible weapon. Again, this wasn't a pleasant feeling.

"I don't have any weapons." I said in the most monotone voice I could. _No emotions, Violet._

"I didn't ask for your input." Bolton spit out right back at me. Apparently he didn't trust me. I sort of glanced towards the desk where his men had begun setting up a crime scene. _Gee, I wonder why he doesn't trust you. _

Without any warning, I was yanked up off the floor like a ragdoll. "Get this place secure." Bolton again barked out, "Andrews!"

One of the men near the desk quickly came over and stood in front of Bolton, "Sir?" _Good doggy._

"I want this place secured. No one up or down either of the connecting hallways until I have a report in my hands. That means no calls to the GCPD either until I deem it necessary. Understood?"

"Yes, sir." Andrews answered quickly. I'm surprised he didn't raise his hand and solute Bolton in all honesty. Everything else about this scene seemed mechanical and militant.

Bolton grabbed me roughly on the shoulder now and began leading me towards the door. "Good. Let Strange know there was an incident. Keep the details at a minimum. Tell him I'm bringing up Violet Morgan to him now." With that, he tightened that vice like grip even more and steered me out the door and into the busy hallway.

In the confusion of Dr. Milton's room, I hadn't noticed the high-pitched wailing or red lights flashing in the hallway. _Lock down._ All of this was for little old me? _Show them what a threat you can really be. _We began walking, and I use that term very lightly seeing as how he was basically dragging me down the hallways. I didn't know my way around this place very well. I only knew the area where my daily activities occurred.

"You sure do like to put on a show don't you?" Bolton asked in a slightly less commanding, but still firm voice. _Yeah, _I'm _the one who likes to put on a show. _I glanced at him now since we were more or less walking side by side. He had slowed down a little.

I had only seen him in passing a couple of times before in the asylum, but I had heard enough from the other inmates and even some of the staff to know that he wasn't someone you wanted to piss off. He had a stony face, like some sort of general in the military. Sharp eyes and a mouth that seemed to be in a permanent frown graced an otherwise average looking face. His black hair was slicked back from a widow's peak that accentuated his lightly lined forehead. Now that I looked closely, judging from the dark circles under his eyes, he appeared less like a military officer and more like a man with a short temper who spent too much time at work. _Working at Arkham Asylum would do that to anyone._

His features weren't generally what intimidated people though. Along with his personality, his body was daunting, all 250 pounds of him. And no, none of that was fat. He wore the standard guard uniform for the security personnel at the asylum; in fact, the only thing different now that I looked at him, was the shiny little name plaque I noticed on his hulking chest that read: _Chief of Security, _then underneath that, _Lyle Bolton. _I smirked a little at the name _Lyle_. Not a very menacing name for this bulky man.

He tightened his grip on my shoulder again. "You think murdering people in cold blood is funny or something?" I guess he saw my not-so-sly smirk and misinterpreted it for something darker than it was.

"I don't know what you're talking about." I said, playing the innocent card. That worked most of the time with the nurses around here. Maybe it'd work with him.

Before I finished that train of thought, he had me pinned to the wall. We had been walking down an empty hallway, so there was no one around to witness this mistreatment._ "_I knew you were gonna be trouble right when I read your file." That sent up a red flag. _I didn't know security staff had the privilege of reading a patient's file? _"I told Strange the second you got here you needed to be up on one of the higher security wings-running around with category 9 patients in Arkham City-I knew it'd be a matter of time before you dropped your little act and really did some damage." He paused, bending his 6'2" frame down over my miniscule 5"1' self, "It just took a little longer than I anticipated."

He was still in my face when I decided to push my luck, "Careful Lyle, you're on camera." I looked up towards one of the many cameras that lined the hallways these days. Figuring this would make him back off a little, I smirked.

To my surprise he laughed, "You think you'll always have someone watching your back don't you? Well, that might be how you're used to things going, but this is my asylum and trust me little girl, videos can be erased." Maybe it was the slightly deranged glint in his eyes, but it was about that moment when I really realized why people were afraid of this man. _He could be one of the patients here. _

He was still in my face, almost challenging me now, "Luckily for you, I'm not really in the mood for it right now. Just know," His hand came up around my throat, choking me slightly, "this is strike one." He squeezed tighter, "You don't want to find out what happens after strike three." He held his hand at my throat for what felt like a lifetime before releasing me. We continued our walk down the hall like nothing had even happened. _Well that was unexpected._ I didn't feel fear so much as weariness around him now. It could've just been an empty threat, but something told me this guy could get away with a lot in here with Gotham's most hated citizens.

Dr. Strange's office was in another building on the grounds, but I didn't know which one. Bolton was still leading me through the halls when we first started seeing more life around the building. I didn't really know what lock down entailed but from what I saw there was a lot of "drop whatever you're doing and stay where you are" going on. Some of the employees we passed watched as we walked by. I got a lot of stares ranging from fear, pity, and even disgust. I watched their eyes all gravitate towards the front of my Arkham issued scrubs. _All that blood really goes good with your eyes. _Right, the blood.

Finally we made it out onto the grounds where it was just now getting dark. This place looked spooky enough in the daytime, but at night it looked down right terrifying. The air felt good though. I hadn't been outside of the small, chained-in recreation yard since I'd gotten here.

"I don't do this to put on a show you know." I said, surprising myself by even talking in the first place. Bolton too seemed surprised that I was willing to speak so soon after being choked by him. "I do this for myself." I said, dead serious. "If anyone else thinks my handiwork is entertaining, then kudos to them." _Shut up, idiot. _Oh don't tell me what to do.

"Keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better." Bolton responded. "That doesn't really change the fact that you go around killing people. Not to mention people who are trying to help you." _Oh look at this one. Thinks he's all self-righteous, he does._

"Who's really helping who?" I muttered, getting a strange look from him, but luckily we had made it to the other building. We walked in through the doors and went up an ancient looking wooden staircase until we were outside some equally ancient looking wooden doors. _Dr. Hugo Strange. Head Psychiatrist. _My night just keeps getting better. Bolton raised his meat wad of a hand and knocked on the engraved door. Without waiting for an answer, he pushed me through the door and slammed it shut behind him.

The room was large, decorated in dark, sophisticated colors with dark wooden furniture. It looked like a twentieth century scholar's study or something. I was still taking everything in when a voice that sent actual chills down my spine spoke out.

"Ah, Mr. Bolton, I thank you for so swiftly bringing in our young patient here." Dr. Strange had been standing off towards the side of the room, looking out the window towards Gotham Bay. He spoke with the same accent I'd heard back in Arkham City when he gave his men the orders to open fire on Roman and I. _Don't trust him._

"Of course, sir. I take it Andrews informed you of the situation?" Bolton asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yes. It is…quite saddening to hear about." Strange spoke to Bolton, but looked at me when he said this. I felt like I was under a microscope all of the sudden.

"Would you like me to stay here or wait outside?" Bolton sent me a look, probably wondering how much of a threat I actually was.

"You may wait in the hall if you wouldn't mind. I'd like to speak to Violet here alone for a while." I couldn't see his eyes behind his slightly tinted round glasses, but I knew they were drilling into my own eyes like an x-ray. I didn't like this one bit.

"Sir, are you sure? She did Milton in pretty good, I wouldn't-" Bolton began forcefully, but with one look from Strange, he broke off and left the room. _Just leave me with the devil himself why don't you._

Strange didn't say anything until the door was firmly shut, signaling Bolton had finally left and we were alone. Slowly, he walked away from the window and over towards his desk. I watched this with sharp eyes, wondering if he was going to pull anything funny. _You may have fooled Gotham and everyone else, but I was in Arkham City and I _know_ you weren't being brain washed._ I wanted to say this, but the words got caught in my throat. Besides, I didn't think I needed to say anything, he already knew I knew the game he was playing.

"Violet, please come sit. We need to talk, I believe." He said this in a softer voice than he used when talking to Bolton-his _understanding psychiatrist _voice, no doubt. Motioning to one of the comfy looking chairs in front of his desk, he said, "Please take a seat. I won't bite." I hesitated, but eventually, I moved towards the chair. _Better get this out of the way. Maybe he'll kill me quickly._

"Good. Good." He said when I was sitting comfortably in front of him. He clicked on the lamp on his desk, bathing the large room in a warm glow. "It's sad that we have to meet under these circumstances, Ms. Morgan." He began, looking straight at me, but again, I couldn't tell if he was looking me in the eye because of the glint the light threw off his glasses, "You had been doing so well since coming here. I had thought perhaps in another few months you would be stable enough to return home with your parents." _Yeah, I'm sure you did. _

When I didn't say anything he continued. "I was afraid this might happen though. After the night you experienced in Arkham City, it can almost be…understandable." _That's one way of putting it. _Why did he have to talk in such a creepy voice?

"After the night I spent in Arkham City it's a wonder I'm even alive, Dr. Strange." _Walk into this one. Don't run. You'll fall._

"Oh, I couldn't agree more. It was, needless to say, intriguing, to see the ways you went about surviving that night." He paused, leaning back in his chair, "You are a much wittier girl than most see you as." What kind of game was he playing?

"I did what I had to do." I didn't want to make it sound here nor there. Not until I figured out where this conversation was heading.

"I've been reviewing your file for a while now. You see, I had placed you away from the chaos of a higher security cell for a reason Violet." He brought his fingers together in a meditative pose. This guy looked more like a mad scientist in his long white lab coat than a doctor. "I thought perhaps because of the ties you have to some of our more dangerous patients, that being near them would be detrimental to your recovery. After all, I had assumed you only did the things you did in Arkham City in order to survive, or because one of our other patients told you to do it." He raised an eyebrow, almost as if he were waiting for what I had to say about that.

"Sorry to let you down." Was all I could get out without sounding like a complete bitch. _No emotions._

He laughed a chilling laugh, "You haven't let anyone down but yourself Violet." I was about to protest when he spoke again, "I don't mean that offensively of course." _I doubt that_. "It just means that your treatment will take much longer than previously anticipated. I hadn't realized quite the extent of your psychosis or, in better terms, what you would be willing to do on your own. What you were _capable_ of doing." He tilted his head to the side a little bit, as if I was an odd specimen he were looking at at the zoo. I shouldn't have killed Milton. Whatever Strange was planning on doing to me was going to be bad. So bad that he had actually instilled remorse in me. Does that make me selfish? _Uh, yeah. It does._

I didn't really know what to say. "So, what happens now?" This was all I really wanted to know. What was going to happen to me? How was I going to be punished?

Suddenly, he stood up from his chair, "First thing's first. I'll contact your parents and let them know of the events that transpired tonight." He paced back and forth a little. "In the long term however, I'll be overseeing your therapy from here forth-"

"You're going to be my doctor?" I asked, suddenly even more exasperated. _No. No, no, no. This wasn't good._

"Yes. I oversee all of the higher risk security patients, which was where I was getting to next. You'll be classified as a Category 9 patient from here on out."

"Category 9?" _That's the highest category in the building. "_I'm sorry but do you really think that's necessary? I mean, there are plenty of other patients in here that killed people who aren't that high up?" _Wow, real nice defense there Vi. _

"Oh yes. I think that is where you need to be. In fact, you were close to being there in the first place. Like I said, I had high hopes for your recovery." He stopped back in the center of his desk, leaning forward so his fingers were resting on the top. "Do not think this is to hurt you in any way. I am only doing this to _help _you Violet. By allowing myself to be your psychiatrist, I believe I can help you more than you realize." He seemed so sure of that. _Something's not right._

"What about the police? Won't I have to go to trial or something? I just murdered a man." I asked, reality finally starting to sink in. My heart raced in my chest, thumping against my ribs.

"Oh that won't be a problem. We have a new policy when dealing with such incidences." He didn't elaborate on what this new policy was but I could imagine it involved not telling the police anything. "If there are no other questions you have for me tonight, I'll have Officer Bolton escort you to your new cell." When I didn't protest, he pressed the button on an intercom I hadn't noticed sitting on his desk, "You may come retrieve the patient now."

Bolton magically reappeared no more than five seconds later, motioning for me to stand up. _So he does answer to someone. _"Take Miss Morgan to one of the empty cells up in Category 9. Alert the nurses up on the floor that she should be taken to the showers to clean herself up and given her new outfit." Strange finished instructing Bolton before turning and looking at me. "I look forward to working with you, Violet."

With that Bolton led me back out of Strange's office and into the hallway. I was just going through the motions. I think I was in shock actually. _Category 9. _That's where the worst of the worst were. That's where Eddie was. That's where all the big baddies were. _That's where Roman is. _Shit.

Bolton led me back out onto the grounds, "Well, looks like you really screwed yourself over this time."

_Gee, ya don't say, Lyle._


End file.
